Tag Archives: Golden Girls

Have you given up?

It is a banner day when one gets personally invited back to the Republican Party by embossed stationery. I wonder how they found me? Perhaps from my subscription to “Entitlement Quarterly?” Or my presence on the Klan roster? Glory be.

It’s a sad day. Estelle Getty has left this earth, and a small child has figured out how to use a kazoo. I did scare someone into giving me half off a custom framing order though. He even carried it to the car. And I received a preliminary attractive person’s discount on a fine product! At last, acknowledgment that my eyebrows start at the exact proper point on my face. Life is so, so bittersweet.

I am never leaving the house again.

Because I love you

I decided to blow off the Amazon after just a few days. It was OK, I guess. I met some monkeys, and I learned how to dye fabric with bugs. I made a caftan. It makes me feel like lounging on the lanai with Dorothy and Rose.

But now that I’m back, I feel a little discontent. I decided it would be in my best interest to have one reasonably lucrative job instead of my usual million jobs with erratic pay schedules. So I set to lookin’, and so far I found one that would like me to know that I would have “responcibilities” if I took it. Oh, don’t do me like that. If anyone is hiring, I am good at being nosy and bossy. I know my way around a spreadsheet. I will fix your dumb idea and make it look like you are the genius in charge of geniusing.

Speaking of dumb ideas, I’m going to have to fire my therapist. I was complaining about a chronic pain condition I have, and he busted out a book called “How to Heal Your Life” or something like that. The cover was a whole mess of watercolor hearts. And I sat there thinking “Oh no you di’n’t,” and he turned to the entry for my particular condition and said “ah-ha: internalizes stress, chooses sugar over real love. something something pain all your fault. Your affirmation should be ‘I am a woman, and I love my womanly body.'” And I said “You are so, so, so, so fired.” I don’t think he believed me. So I should order a singing telegram. Oh Tom Cruise, you dumb cracker, where are you with your vitamins when I need you?

Bring on the Dancing Whores, I mean Horses

1985 is shaping up pretty rad so far. I was all sweaty and nauseated for a couple days with the usual booze and pill new year, listening to Psychocandy. Couldn’t eat more than a cherry tomato. But I did manage to pick up a copy of Spex and a couple new albums. Nothing you would have heard of, it’s all German. Except, for Helen I got the new Scritti Politi. She just loves to dance. Holy crap, I am supposed to go meet her at the mall! We might go see Rocky III later. She is probably waiting for me by the fountain already, drinking a tab and ready to ring my neck, or pouring slurpees on the jocks that hang out by the Iroc giveaway.

Golden Girls is on tonight. 1985 Rules.


I’ll stop the world and melt with you

My horoscope today says: “Avoid all over-indulgences and questionable areas of town.” That can only mean that I’ll be seeing Lambchop!

And now, YOU, dear reader, can say the same.

PRESENTING…. The First Annual Vomitola.com “Win a Date With Lambchop” Giveaway!

That’s right, gentle swain, you could be a mere email away from a some-expense paid trip to see David Bowie, accompanied by Lambchop, me, and Mr. H.

How, you ask? It’s easy — just send an email to WIN@Vomitola.com with the following information:

• A 3/4 view photo (hint: you should be somewhat attractive)

• A gramatically flawless paragraph listing your favorite things about Lambchop

• A thoughtful run-down of your top five best qualities

• Pick one of the following: Andy Gibb or Jim Rockford

• Since I am doing the judging, preference will be given to supplementary material lauding Bea Arthur

No purchase necessary to enter. All entries must be received by May 1, 2004. All entries become the property of Vomitola.com and may be reproduced as we see fit, including forwarding around in email with the designation “Ha! HAHAHAHAHA!” Winner will be notified by email on or before May 15, 2004.

Actual cash value: One David Bowie ticket for the floor, section D, at the Verizon Wireless Arena in Manchester, NH on June 1, 2004. You must provide your own transportation, but if you are especially comely, we might give you a ride from, say, the Lowell Commuter Rail Station.

Of course one can not possibly put a cash value on the company of Lambchop for an evening, but it is safe to say that it is in excess of $19.95.

Please note also that in the event that you are selected but are not able to attend, you will not receive any actual cash. The ticket itself is not-transferable and becomes property of Vomitola.com if the winner is unable to use it, lest the winner gives it to an ugly person, and we actually have to sit next to him or her in public.


I think I am coming down with tonsilitis. Again. So its tea and Viennetta for me for the next couple days. This did not stop your intrepid lambchop from going out to see Sigur Ros tonight, mind however. And boy was it worth it. They were intense. I would poke fun at the emo kids in their vintage “hand-me-downs” but I just heard “thank you for being a friend” coming out of the tv in the other room, tadalafil and I think before I die I need to see the Golden Girls dubbed in german. “ach, rose…”

When Sigur Ros winds their wistful way to your town, do go.

cough, smooch